


Crossroad Blues- Part Two

by queenofdeansbooty



Series: Spn Series Rewrite- Season 2 [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdeansbooty/pseuds/queenofdeansbooty
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader
Series: Spn Series Rewrite- Season 2 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1348762
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Crossroad Blues- Part Two

“What do you think we’ll find in here?” You asked Sam, walking ahead of Dean. You didn’t notice him slowing down and taking in your surroundings.

“Hey, guys, check this out.” You and Sam both stopped and turned around, looking at what he was pointing at. There were yellow flowers. Why were they important? They looked familiar but you couldn’t pin point it.

“What is it?” Sam asked, catching up.

“Look at these flowers.” Dean said, thinking.

“They look familiar but I can’t think of the name.” You said, biting your lip.

“They’re yarrow flowers.” Sam said. Always thinking on the spot. That man was amazing.

“Oh yeah, they’re used for certain rituals, right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. More specifically, summoning rituals.” Sam said, looking at his brother.

“So, to recap, two people become sudden successes ten years ago, when they were hanging around this bar. On top of that, right where a crossroad is. You have got to be kidding me. I hate these things.” You said, kicking some rocks.

“Let’s check just to be sure.” Dean said, walking to the center of the crossroads and he kneeled, digging a few inches into the soil. He hit something hard and smirked, looking up at you and Sam.

“Let me guess, you found something.” You said, not believing this at all.

“Yahtzee.” He pulled a rusted old box out of the ground and you kneeled next to him, looking inside as he opened it up. Inside was several small bones, a small jar filled with some type of dirt, a picture of a new man and some other items. Sam reached in and took out the jar, inspecting it.

“I’d bet that this is filled with graveyard dirt and those bones may be animal bones, preferably a black cat.” Sam said.

“That’s serious spell work, guys. They weren’t messing around with this stuff.” You said, standing up with Dean.

“This is things that are used to summon a crossroad demon. I read about it in one of Bobby’s books. People actually make deals and sell their souls to demons to get what they want.” You said, sighing.

“Are you ever going to refer to him as ‘dad’?” Dean asked.

“Please, I do not want to get into that now. Let’s just focus on this, please?” You asked. As much as you were glad to have some family in your life, Bobby needed to earnt hat title because to you, he was just a family friend. He wasn’t your dad.

“Fine, so about those dogs they were seeing, they are actually Hellhounds or demonic pit bulls.” Sam said.

“So, these Hellhounds got Sean and now they are after the Doctor. I have no idea where she is but she won’t be able to outrun them.” You said, thinking.

“So, she sold her soul to get that job. This is just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? He sold his soul to become a great musician.” Sam asked Dean.

“Yeah, except it wasn’t a legend. I mean, come on, you’ve heard his music,” At the mention of this, Sam shrugged, not knowing what Dean was talking about. “You don’t know Robert Johnson’s songs? Sam, there’s occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail? The story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs.”

“Now it’s happening all over again,” You said. “We have to figure out if anyone else bargained their life.”

“Really? Now we have to clean up their messes? I mean they’re not exactly innocent people. No one forced them to play Let’s Make A Deal.” Dean said, crossing his arms.

“So, what, we should just leave them to die?” You asked.

“If someone went over Niagara in a barrel, would you jump in to save them?”

“Dean.” You said, not believing your ears.

*********

“Fine. With rituals like this, you have to put in your own photo in order for it to work. We have a new photo of a new man. Let’s go inside the bar to see if he’s alive.” Dean said, taking the photo out of the box and dropping the box on the ground.

With some persuading, you got the information you need and you had the man’s address. His name was George Darrow and he was quite the regular at Lloyd’s bar. You walked up to the fourth floor since this is where he lived.

“Damn, whatever he asked for better be good because if this is where he’s living then, what’s the point?” You muttered, walking up to his door.

“True. Whatever kind of deal he made wasn’t for cash. He better have gotten something good out of this deal.” Sam said.

“Nothing good can come out of a deal with a demon, Sam,” You said, walking up to his door. You frowned, looking at the bottom of the door. “Look.” You crouched down and touched the black powder at the door and smelled it.

“What is it, pepper?” Dean asked. Before you could answer, the door opened and you shot up, looking at the middle-aged man with graying hair who wasn’t dressed very nicely.

“Who the hell are you?” The man sneered.

“George Darrow?” You asked. You didn’t know what he made a deal for but if it wasn’t for looks or cash, then what?

“I’m not buying anything.” He glared. He was about to close the door but Sam stopped him.

“Whoa, calm down. Looked like you went for the wrong spice there. If you want to keep something evil out, go for the salt.” You said, wiping your hands on your pants. It didn’t smell like pepper but you didn’t know what it was.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” George said, looking away from anyone’s eyes.

“We’re talking about this,” Dean said, holding up the picture from the crossroads. When George looked at it, his eyes widened. “Tell me, have you seen that Hellhound yet?”

“Look, we want to help you. Please, let us help. Give us five minutes, please.” You begged the man. The man eyed you and the Winchesters before sighing and opening his door wider. You stepped over the line of whatever was on the ground and you looked around his apartment.

It was filled with paintings, some were completed and some were only half-finished. Now you knew what he asked for. You bet he always wanted to be a successful artist. George walked over to his desk and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“So, what’s that stuff by the door?” You asked, looking at him.

“Goofer Dust.”

“What the hell is that?” You were confused. You never heard of that in your life.

“What, you say you know things but you don’t know about this?” George grabbed a brown sack that was tied with twine and tossed it to Dean. He caught it and frowned.

“Well, we know just enough about a lot of things to make us dangerous.” Dean said, looking at the sack.

“What is that?” You asked.

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me all of this. She says it keeps demons out.”

“Yeah, demons, we know about.”

“Well, then maybe it’ll do you some good,” George walked over to a chair and sat down. “You have four minutes left.”

“Mr. Darrow, we know you’re in trouble,” Sam said, taking the lead. “And we know that it’s not hopeless. There has to be something we can do.”

“Listen, I understand you want to help. I appreciate it, honestly. But sometimes a person has to make their bed and lay in it. I’m the one who called the demon. This was my choice.”

“So, you wanted to become an artist? Anyone can learn to be an artist, George. You didn’t have to sell your soul for this.”

“I was weak. Who doesn’t want to be great. I wanted it now, I didn’t want to wait. Of course, I should have asked for fame. All I asked for was talent. Now I’m broke and lonely with a bunch of paintings that no one wants. But that wasn’t the worst part.”

“What was the worst?” You asked, taking a seat on the armrest on his couch.

“That damn demon didn’t leave. It kept making more deals at Lloyd’s. I tried to warn everyone but who’s going to listen to an old drunk, right?” George scoffed.

“How many more other people are there?” You wondered.

“I don’t know, the architect and the doctor I know for sure. I kept up with them because they’ve been in the papers. At least they got famous.” George said, getting off topic.

“George, please, think for us. Who else made a deal?” You asked, sighing.

“Oh, I remember, this one nice man named Evan Hudson. I don’t know what he asked for but it doesn’t matter now. We’re all doomed.”

“No, there has to be a way.” Sam said, not giving up on hope. That was one of the things you admired about him.

“You don’t get it! I don’t want a way!” George yelled at you three. “I called that thing! I brought this upon myself and on them! I’m going to hell one way or another so if you would excuse me, I would like to finish my last painting in peace. They’ll come for me in a day or two.”

“No, we can’t just give up.” Sam said but he was cut off again.

“Get out! I have work to do!” George glared at Sam.

“Sam, come on. We can’t help people if they don’t want it.” You said, getting up. You looked at George before leaving his apartment. Sam and Dean followed soon after.


End file.
